


The Hazards of Ennui

by peachysun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Even As A Vampire, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan Is The Sun, M/M, i don't know how to use tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21777181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachysun/pseuds/peachysun
Summary: Jaehyun turns his first human in the winter of 1841. Regret blooms in the spring eleven years later.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 12
Kudos: 279





	The Hazards of Ennui

**_Summer, 1844_ **

“This party seems awfully dead.”

“Is it a compulsion you have? To make that joke every time?” Doyoung’s lips curl with disgust as Yukhei sits next to him on the sofa. The soft chuckle to his right irritates him even further, and he pointedly retracts his hand from the crook of Johnny’s elbow.

“Come now,” Johnny’s voice betrays his smile, even as Doyoung turns away from him. “It’s a little funny.”

“It hasn’t been funny since the Plague of London.”

 _“To you,”_ Yukhei settles back against the cushions, stretching and lacing his fingers behind his head. The hundreds of candles lining the walls of the great chamber warm the edges of his fanged grin, red eyes bright from a fresh feeding. “Speaking of which, has –?”

“Up on the staircase behind us,” Johnny removes a handkerchief from his vest, gently dabs at his mouth, then leans forward to press two fingers to the neck of the human passed out with their cheek to his thigh. “Where is Hwasa? I’m finished with this one.”

“She’ll send someone to collect it soon enough,” Yukhei draws one leg up on the sofa and twists until he finds what he’s looking for. His excitement is sufficiently palpable that Doyoung easily imagines the way his heart would race could blood still run through it.

Stay undead long enough, and your reality begins to take on a cloying haze. Faces blur, one into the other, and the old man that fixed your pocket watch becomes the old man that nearly gets run over by your horse becomes the old man that served as your landlord for the brief twenty years you were in Prague – all centuries apart. The Dark Gift is more than the preservation of beauty, affection, and amusement. Sometimes it’s the only way to find a handhold when the fierce rush of time threatens to sweep you away. Most newborn vampires tend not to comprehend the power they hold until they in turn sire their first fledgling.

“Still working on our etiquette, are we?”

Jaehyun releases the back of Donghyuck’s neck after cuffing him into a deep bow and following suit with one of his own, expression pinched. “Regrettably.”

“I was only saying hello,” Donghyuck nearly rolls his eyes, but catches himself. Taeil reaches out to pat his cheek, regarding him as one would a misbehaving pup. He’s one of the eldest coven members Donghyuck has met thus far, as pale as porcelain, though he doesn’t seem to give much weight to that fact. Still, the feel of his palm, that smooth marble, is telling. He must be close to a millennium in age. Jaehyun’s felt like sugar glass.

“Even smiling at high-level members can get you killed unless you first show respect. I know he can be overbearing, but you have to listen to him. Not everyone takes the rules lightly.”

“I’ll add it to my list of things to avoid; fire, sunlight, smiling –”

“Brothels,” Jaehyun tacks on, eyes cutting sharply to Donghyuck’s face. He’s pointedly ignored, and Taeil glances between them with amusement. Despite the simplicity of his white shirt, lace jabot, and Persian blue waistcoat, Donghyuck stands out in a sea of darker colours. Most fledglings tend to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible – Taeil isn’t sure Donghyuck knows how.

“Will you be drinking tonight?” he asks.

“I –”

“Have already eaten,” Jaehyun cuts in before Donghyuck can respond. “And will spend the rest of the night in quiet reflection.”

“I didn’t really eat though,” Donghyuck pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, tilting his head at Jaehyun. “I was just having a bit of fun.”

Jaehyun’s gaze flickers warningly. He nods at Taeil and starts down the stairs without another word.

Tucked in and around the western side of their city, both in the bustling metropolitan area and countryside, is a series of estates few will ever enter. Behind a façade of brick, cast iron, glass windows, and expensive curtains, are bedrooms with no windows, unopened pantries gathering layers of dust, and passages that lead to underground chambers with wasteful quantities of furniture, relics, instruments, and art. For most of the vampires that had been turned within the last few centuries, it was simply another layer added to their privilege – bitten in their prime by a bloodsucker attracted to their good looks and fine breeding, which went hand in hand with their family’s wealth, and gaining immortality. When Donghyuck had come to the fold three years ago, however, it was under slightly different circumstances.

“What took you so long?” Yukhei asks as the two finally make their way over, twisting again until he’s kneeling on the couch. Donghyuck opens his mouth to respond, but the tips of his fangs barely peek out before he snaps it shut and bows much too deep, the seat of his pants straining beyond intent. Jaehyun pinches the space between his brows as Yukhei laughs and even Doyoung presses his fist to his mouth.

“I was just being respectful,” Donghyuck folds his arms behind him once he straightens up, eyes crinkling with a smile. “Like you said.”

“What has he done now, Jaehyunnie?” Johnny asks.

“ _He_ _decided_ ,” Jaehyun hisses, “- that the best way to prepare for dinner was to find something to eat, unsupervised, with the local constabulary force on high alert after last week’s murders. He then tracked dirt into the kitchen, which he never cleans–”

“I always clean it up,” Donghyuck scoffs. “And _even when I don’t_ , it’s only because you can’t wait long enough for me to have a bath.”

“The broom is right next to the door.”

“You’re acting like I killed someone,” Donghyuck watches Jaehyun take the armchair next to Johnny, easing his unconscious meal’s leg out of the way before sitting down. “No one noticed me, and I only drank a little bit. They got more out of it than I did.”

“If you insist on continuing to draw attention to yourself, perhaps I should take you to Heechul now so he can rip your head off and be done with it.”

“I suppose this is a bad time to ask for him to come with me, then?” Yukhei sheepishly lifts a shoulder. “I was saving someone he might like.”

“He’s not eating tonight,” Jaehyun reclines in his seat. “Share with someone else.”

“Jaehyun,” Donghyuck says flatly.

“Be quiet.”

 _“Jaehyun,”_ Donghyuck says again, closer. Hands slide over Jaehyun’s knees and up his thighs as Donghyuck kneels in front of him, eyes glassy. “Please, I’m sorry. It’s just so hard to think straight _when I want it_.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Donghyuck starts crawling up onto his lap. Jaehyun glances past him where several heads have turned in their direction, some in the middle of feeding. His hand goes almost instinctively for Donghyuck’s back to pull him closer, but he aborts the movement, flexing his fingers and setting his hand back on the armrest.

“I said no.”

“You _want_ me to be hungry?”

“I _want_ you to learn to listen,” Jaehyun looks him in the eyes.

Donghyuck straightens, stares him down for a few moments, then scoffs and gets up. He spends an hour sitting next to Doyoung once Yukhei leaves, then wanders off when Felix comes over to tell Jaehyun Hwasa would like to see him.

**_Autumn, 1846_ **

“How long can you stay in the sunlight?”

It’s two moves later when Jaehyun remembers to respond, the sound of heavy rain outside muting his thoughts. The chess pieces are starting to look worn. He may have to shop around for new ones soon. “With an umbrella? A few hours on an overcast day and…perhaps fifteen minutes if the sun is out.”

“Without an umbrella.”

“I’ve never tried,” Jaehyun presses his index finger to one of his knights. “Though I suppose I should know my tolerance just in case. You’re only a few years old, however, so you wouldn’t try for at least half a century, and even then it should be sometime near dusk on an evening when it rains.”

“I’m actually nineteen.”

“You –” Jaehyun stops short when he sees the twinkle in Donghyuck’s eyes, and shakes his head emphatically. “I see why you and Yukhei get along so well.”

He spends a few more turns trying to strategize, but sees the moment Donghyuck grows bored and stops caring. It’s been several days since the fledgling last went out, and he seems antsy. Caged. Yet he’s made no attempt to sneak out, and simply takes his meals from the victims Hwasa sends. There’s a crude little etching the size of a playing card, made from a piece of his old home, that he’s taken to turning over in his hand when lost in thought. Right now it sits among the two pawns and bishop he’s collected.

Jaehyun makes a move, then waits for Donghyuck to go again. He doesn’t. Instead he draws his bare legs up on the armchair, and picks at the sleeve of a silk shirt Jaehyun had explicitly told him not to take.

“I was just thinking -” Donghyuck squeezes one eye shut and rubs his brow with his thumb “- how long it’s been since I was in the sun.”

Jaehyun waits.

“I feel like I’ve been in a dream,” Donghyuck continues. “Like I went to sleep five years ago, and nothing is real, because I should be able to go outside like I always have. I think I’ll wake up any day now, and walk into my backyard to get some eggs – I was always lucky, my chicken laid so many – and maybe I’ll still have some bread in the pantry too, and I’ll realize you don’t exist, because it’s not – it’s not possible that I don’t eat, and I can’t breathe, and I won’t feel the sun on my face, at least not for a thousand years.”

“Donghyuck –”

“I don’t blame you,” he says quietly. “It’s not like anyone wishes to die. I just…don’t see an end to this.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Jaehyun asks.

Donghyuck doesn’t respond.

**_Spring, 1847_ **

“Not that they don’t all look lovely,” Taeyong drawls, “- but why are you only choosing all-black pieces?”

“Isn’t this how vampires are supposed to dress?” Mark asks, palms upturned as he shrugs.

There’s silence in the tailor shop as everyone realizes what he’s just said, followed by raucous laughter.

“What?” the fledgling asks, voice going high as he takes in the reactions. Even Doyoung nearly loses his grip on the minds of the shop owner and attendees.

“What did you do? Go to the library and ask for any clippings they had on vampires?” Donghyuck regards him knowingly.

“It always helps to be informed,” Mark looks genuinely perplexed at their reactions. “You all just went in headfirst?”

“I told you to come to me with any questions,” Taeyong runs a hand through his silver hair. “Why did you send for books? They’re written by _humans._ ”

“I thought, maybe -” Mark glances away. “I don’t know – I thought there was a chance one of them would have been written by a real vampire. Sort of hiding the information in plain sight, so to speak –”

“You said he was smart,” Donghyuck looks at Taeyong.

“He is, he’s just –” Taeyong waves his hand around and makes a non-committal noise.

They leave the shop half an hour later, Johnny accepting the owner’s near-frantic handshakes and promises of new stock with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. For him, Taeyong, and Doyoung, their suits, gloves, and hats are enough for the short trek from the store’s doorway to the stagecoach. Mark and Donghyuck have their faces wrapped with scarves, shaded with umbrellas, and are handed up through the doors to sit across from each other.

Jaehyun was away on business with Taeil and Hwasa. In the meantime, Donghyuck had been asked to help Taeyong’s new fledgling acclimate to the coven, being both closer to his age and more recently turned.

Unfortunately, those were the only two things they had in common. Donghyuck also knows Jaehyun would never have recommended he be allowed to teach any new vampire about anything ever. The offer was most likely made so that he could be kept an eye on.

“So, why did you choose to turn?” Mark asks. In the darkness of the carriage, Donghyuck can see more clearly the silver lining the red of Mark’s irises. He was a little jealous, to be honest, that he hadn’t presented in a special way. He supposes it depends on the sire – Taeyong’s silver hair was rare too amongst lower-ranked members of the coven.

All Jaehyun gave him was an affinity for the cello and hatred of chess.

“That’s not something you’re supposed to ask,” Taeyong reprimands. “If someone offers their reasons, then –”

“I don’t mind telling him,” Donghyuck says dismissively. “Not that there’s much to tell. I didn’t choose.”

The carriage runs along the cobblestone, which becomes dirt as they cut through the market square. Donghyuck doesn’t realize he’s said anything wrong until Doyoung asks with a slight chill to his voice –

“Jaehyun turned you without your permission?”

Donghyuck looks again at Mark, who quickly looks away. Next to Mark, Taeyong is staring at Donghyuck, and though Johnny and Doyoung are sitting to his right, he can feel their gazes too.

“I don’t mind that he did. I mean, when I –” Donghyuck clears his throat. “If he had given me the choice then I might have regardless –”

“Sorry,” Mark blurts. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Donghyuck,” Doyoung repeats. “Did Jaehyun turn you without your permission?”

“Does it matter?”

The carriage jerks sharply, the sound of terrified neighs rearing up from the front as the driver curses and shouts come from the street around them. Doyoung grabs Donghyuck by the neck and no one reacts, except for Mark, whose box of purchases goes tumbling into the space between their legs.

“Answer him,” Johnny says calmly. “And remember your place.”

“I’m sorry he – he didn’t. I mean he did turn me without – he – he didn’t ask my permission.”

Doyoung releases him without a word, and the horses quiet. Were it a human that had tried to choke him, it may not have even registered, but the marks on Donghyuck’s neck take hours to disappear, and despite Doyoung’s leather gloves, leave a burning sensation that lingers long after Jaehyun returns and Doyoung asks to speak with him in private.

**_Summer, 1850_ **

“You’ve made great progress.”

Donghyuck keeps his head down as he slides his bow across the four strings of his cello, fingers moving deftly along the bridge. There’s a solstice celebration taking place in the heart of the city, loud enough that the cicadas can’t drown it out. Jaehyun had come up expecting to find him gone.

“You’ve been at it for some time.”

The sound of the cello reclaims the space Jaehyun’s voice had just taken. Donghyuck lets his eyes drift closed and tips his face up as if lost in a dream. Jaehyun stares at the constellation of moles that run along his cheek, down his neck, and disappear into the front of his unlaced shirt.

“Would you like to take a walk into town?”

“Do you want me to?” Donghyuck doesn’t open his eyes.

“It would serve some purpose.”

“You could have just said yes,” Donghyuck stops playing and stands.

They meet at the front gate twenty minutes later, Jaehyun tucking his umbrella under his arm to fix the hat Donghyuck had chosen to wear. A few of their neighbours stroll past in a group, and Jaehyun lets them get a good way down the street before holding out his arm. Donghyuck takes it.

“It’s a nice night,” Jaehyun says after they’ve walked together for a while. Donghyuck’s laughter is abrupt, and he presses his forehead to Jaehyun’s shoulder

“Was that a lead up to something?” he manages once he’s calmed down.

“I’ve…been meaning to speak with you,” Jaehyun glances at Donghyuck from the corner of his eyes. “About our situation.”

“The situation we’ve been in for the past nine years?” There are more people about them now as they get closer to town, kids darting through the crowds with candies, and vendors hawking hot pastries and hard cakes. “Though I suppose for you it’s been about three days. I haven’t lived very long even for the living.”

“I apologize. I should have –”

“Spoken to me sooner?”

“Asked if you wanted to be turned.”

“I appreciate everyone’s concern over whether I’ve been forced into this _life_ of seeing more coffins and candles than a funeral parlour, but I’ve accepted it. Aside from waiting a couple centuries to walk in sunlight, things aren’t that different. Besides, when would you have asked?” Donghyuck watches two kids fight over a stick wrapped with some sort of coloured string. “I was almost dead when you found me.”

Jaehyun hesitates. “There may have been –”

“Donghyuck!” a familiar voice calls from close to one of the stalls. He perks up, grinning when he sees Yukhei do a ridiculous looking jig before Hwasa smacks the back of his head and points at the people around them. She’s still telling him off when they make their way over, though Yukhei looks more worn-out than genuinely scared of her.

Donghyuck had been surprised to learn she wasn’t his sire. No one knew who it was. Yukhei never spoke about it.

“Do you see how ridiculous he is?” Hwasa narrows her eyes. “Glamour only works if you’re not a complete buffoon in public.”

Donghyuck keeps a hand on Jaehyun’s sleeve as he bows at Hwasa, thanking her for having meals sent to and picked up from their home. She waves him off, but Jaehyun can tell she’s pleased though she looks as unimpressed as always.

“I didn’t expect to see you two. Jaehyunnie, you’re hardly one for events outside the coven.”

“That’s not true.”

“If you say so,” Hwasa looks at Yukhei. “Take Donghyuck and go look at some of the prize booths. And don’t win any goldfish. Remember what happened with the last one.”

“What happened with the last one?” Jaehyun asks as the two walk off, Donghyuck trying to pinch Yukhei’s hip.

“It grew to be a foot long and destroyed our pond’s ecosystem,” Hwasa watches them leave, then turns to Jaehyun. “Heechul is a little concerned about Donghyuck. And by a little, I mean a lot. He’s spoken with Taeil and Doyoung at length, and is in the process of deciding whether to step in.”

“I thought we resolved this,” Jaehyun’s jaw stiffens. “It was under extenuating circumstances, but Donghyuck doesn’t have a problem with being turned.”

“He was wilfully provocative for several years after the shift, has made minimal attempts to integrate himself in our rites, and still doesn’t seem to grasp the full extent of his situation. A lot of this is your fault. Even worse, he was almost dead when you carried out the ritual. Turning a sick person is one thing, but you invited death into your own vessel. And for what? His life was hard but death was his mercy. You selfishly took that away from him.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” Hwasa laughs, short, sharp, and cutting. “I hope for your sake I am. You should have enjoyed him while he lasted. We cage birds, Jaehyun. We don’t free them. Eternity is a curse, and giving others a choice is the only thing that sets us apart from those barbarians that create broken fledglings who put our coven at risk or walk willingly into the sunlight. Donghyuck may be welcomed by our friends, but he makes most of the others uneasy. At least stop lying to yourself.”

Jaehyun looks away from her, lips pressing into a white slash.

“Does he know?” she asks. “How long you were watching him? How you feel?”

“I’ll –” his voice is strained. “I’ll tell him. Soon.”

Donghyuck and Yukhei return with trinkets, Yukhei proudly displaying his wooden carving of a goldfish, and Donghyuck gently opening his palm to reveal a necklace with an amber pendant shaped like the sun – the small, round stone encased in a ring of wavy bronze tendrils. Hwasa compliments him on it then takes her leave, Yukhei hugging Donghyuck before trailing after her.

“I saw Mark,” Donghyuck says as they continue their stroll. “He’s been asking me questions on and off for the past few months about my experiences. I think he’s trying to put some sort of book together, though I don’t think he’ll actually be allowed to publish it. Are there vampire-exclusive books? What’s the best-selling text in undead circles?”

“It’s fine for him to write down general observations, but he shouldn’t be asking you for specifics, which he must be, since Taeyong can tell him most of what he needs to know.”

“Why?” Donghyuck sounds exasperated. “Is all this secrecy a vampire thing or a high society thing? Both? With all this time on your hands you’d think it would be the opposite – that everything had already been talked to death and there was nothing interesting left to say.”

“We were having a conversation earlier.”

Donghyuck blinks at the sudden segue. “Okay?”

“About how you were turned. It’s not…typical.”

“Doyoung sort of made that clear.”

“But you understand his issues with it,” frustration seeps into Jaehyun’s voice. “Usually there’s a precursor. The ritual is…intimate. It takes a certain level of affection, even if it’s only at the surface level. Otherwise, why turn someone? You would just drink your fill and leave.”

They turn onto one of the quieter bridge streets overlooking the canal, a few lanterns hanging on rusty hooks from the sidewalls. A lone figure works to bring in a boat at the other end near the water.

“I suppose I was lucky then, that you took pity on me.”

Jaehyun tells himself it’s paranoia – that nothing in Donghyuck’s voice hints at him knowing what he’s just said is a lie, and he’s waiting to be corrected. How could he know? Hwasa’s words rattle around in his head and claw at his throat.

“Donghyuck,” Jaehyun stops and turns so suddenly that his fledgling nearly bumps into him. Rather than step back, Donghyuck reaches up and lifts the brim of his hat with his thumb and forefinger to better see Jaehyun’s face.

“Yes?”

Jaehyun holds his gaze, grip tightening on his umbrella.

“Are you ready to head back?”

“Hwasa was right, then.”

 _“What?”_ Jaehyun searches his face.

“You’re not a fan of outside events,” Donghyuck moves closer and takes his hand, stepping back two paces before turning about and leading him off the bridge.

**_Winter, 1851_ **

“Finished?”

“Almost,” Donghyuck pokes the cheek of the victim lying on the mass of pillows next to him and watches their head loll to the side. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Ahhh winter blood is the best,” Yukhei hums and holds his victim closer, a serene smile spreading across his face. “It’s so much warmer. Mark? You sure you don’t want some?”

“I –” Mark skims the four bodies on the bed in the small room, naked and loose-limbed from the ecstasy of the bite, one pawing weakly at Donghyuck’s leg and wanting to give more. He licks his fangs, considers, but remains seated on the lounge by the fireplace. “I prefer to watch.”

“How _deviant_ ,” Donghyuck lays his head on the stomach of the victim closest to him and listens to their heartbeat. A hand settles on his head, and he reaches up to cover it with his own. Even after Yukhei’s finished eating, he continues to pet Donghyuck’s hair.

“You’re both very handsy,” Mark observes.

“You sound jealous,” Donghyuck retorts, propping himself up on his elbows, facing Mark’s chair, and spreading his legs. “But you’re always welcome to join.”

Mark rolls his eyes and sinks lower in his seat as Yukhei cackles, but Donghyuck can tell his gears are turning. He has a very specific thinking face, and it sits precariously between his expressions of intrigue and disgust.

“I probably shouldn’t ask –” he starts.

“This is the qualifier he uses now,” Yukhei levels a look at Donghyuck. “That way if anyone complains to Taeyong he can say he wasn’t _really_ asking.”

“Are you and Jaehyun lovers?” Mark laces his fingers together over his chest.

“Why do you ask?” Donghyuck sits up, swatting at an ass pressed too close to his thigh until the person shifts away.

“Taeyong says most of the time vampires turn friends, family, or lovers. Everyone I’ve met seems to fall into one of these categories, but you two are strange. I was thinking it might be because you didn’t choose to be turned, that he was punishing you for something, but he doesn’t restrict your movements, even if he gripes about it constantly.”

“Constantly,” Yukhei agrees, teething at a neck.

“I mean you tease him, but he doesn’t tease back, or push you away, or do anything really. I was wondering if he’s the same way in private, or what you would do if he actually responded in kind.”

“Have you ever fed together?” Yukhei adds.

Donghyuck leans back on his arms, eyes half-lidded. “He’s always eaten alone at home, and in a private room when we go to parties. The only time I’ve ever seen him feed was when he –” his gaze snaps back to Mark. “No, we haven’t.”

“So, it was just when he turned you,” Mark unlaces his fingers, and drums them against the arms of the lounge. “Do you want to? Feed with him, that is.”

“I’m beginning to think you only became a vampire to pry into a whole other segment of the population,” Donghyuck pushes himself up and off the bed, straightening and re-fastening the loose collar of his shirt. “Yukhei?”

“Give me a second, he pats himself. “I think I lost my key.”

Donghyuck steps out of the room as Mark goes over to the bed to help him look, pressing his hands to his cheeks though they remain cold. The memory is faint, blurred at the edges, but he can see Jaehyun’s mouth hovering just above him, his tongue curling around one of his fangs as he licks them from red to pink to bone white.

“Donghyuck?”

He’d heard someone coming up the steps and turned away from the sound, giving little thought to whoever might be wandering the candlelit halls of a brothel at two in the morning. The warmth of that familiar voice chills him to his core. This was the last place he expected to see anyone from his old village, much less someone he’d have called a friend.

“I can’t believe I recognized you. I thought I was crazy.” Renjun laughs and slaps his upper arm when Donghyuck turns, but his excitement falters once he gets a good look at him. How does glamour work with people who knew you from before? Had Jaehyun said?

After a decade of frozen faces, the age in his seems unnatural. There’s a wrongness about this interaction, and Donghyuck feels like his reality has started to come apart at the seams.

“You look –” Renjun hesitates. “The same. It’s been ten years, hasn’t it? I –” he blinks as if trying to string his thoughts together. “What happened to you? A drunk came down to the bar one night screaming that you’d been hurt, but when we went out to search, the snow made it impossible. We thought he had imagined it, but then you really did disappear. People said he was responsible. Even after spring rolled around a body never turned up.”

“I think you’re mistaken,” Donghyuck schools his expression, impassive. “I don’t know who that is.”

“I didn’t drink that much, I think,” Renjun touches his temple. “ _I know it’s you._ Your moles are in the same place. Remember when we stole milk from the back of that cart and the bottle fell and broke before we could even take a sip? And you have that scar on your arm from when Sanha threw that stone near the river, right?” He seems to get a little desperate, suddenly, grabbing a handful Donghyuck’s sleeve. “Why are you doing this? I thought you died. I – my head feels weird.”

Donghyuck pulls his arm away, but Renjun steps even closer, as do the walls around them.

“What happened to you?” he asks again, but his gaze is unfocused, eyes glassy. “Where did you go? Are you coming home?”

Home.

Donghyuck thinks of his old place, before Jaehyun, when he wasn’t the only one sitting by the fireplace, and he could run out the front door every morning without fear.

“You’re so cold,” Renjun says airily as Donghyuck crowds him against the wall and tugs at his shirt collar. “But it’s winter, right?”

The taste is almost disappointing for how normal it is, but it’s offset by something else – the faint smell of ash and pine so unlike the oak Jaehyun burnt in their fireplaces. Donghyuck remembers his own fireplace, patched up with mismatched stones over the years, and how he kept the kettle just close enough to the fire that his water would stay warm without evaporating.

He’d liked tea. He’d liked the tastes of the different plants he could use to make it. Food used to mean so much more than blood. Even when he didn’t have much of it, the possibilities, all he _could_ eat if he had it, it was dizzying to think about. Food didn’t stagnate and rot inside him. Renjun smells of meat and fresh pie – of liquor and the cheap grease paper he once gifted Donghyuck some dried fish in.

Donghyuck holds Renjun tighter, brows pinching as his jaw constricts and blood begins to fill his mouth faster than he can drink, running down his chin. He’s never felt closer to his past than in this moment.

This could be the end of it.

He could wake up.

He could go back.

He coughs as someone roughly bends his arm behind him and forces him to let go, speckles of blood coating Renjun’s cheek as he slumps against the wall with a vacant expression. Yukhei catches him just before his legs can crumple, and his head falls forward then to the side, revealing the mangled bite struggling to close on his neck.

Donghyuck feels nauseous.

“Is he dead?” Mark asks, holding Donghyuck in place.

Yukhei peers at Renjun’s neck, pupils dilating. “He’ll be alright, but –” he hesitates, then uses a sharp nail to dig into the skin between the two puncture marks, shaking his head at the distressed sound Donghyuck makes. “I have to. It won’t heal for a few days and a doctor will find the wound irregular.”

“I –” Donghyuck lowers his head, the taste of blood disgustingly sweet in his mouth. “I wasn’t even thinking –”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark glances behind them. ‘He’ll be fine, so it’s not worth it to get caught with him. We need to leave. Now.”

Lucas reopens the door to their room, and tips his chin at the window overlooking the back alley. The last thing Donghyuck sees of Renjun before dropping off the ledge into the snow is someone’s shadow falling over him as a door opens across the hallway.

**_Spring, 1852_ **

It’s the howling that brings Jaehyun downstairs – down to where Donghyuck is standing just inside the kitchen door as dark clouds twist and roll in monstrous mass over the city. The wind is strong enough that rain and leaves have shot their way past him into the back of the house, his hair and clothes whipping madly about him as if possessed.

Jaehyun goes to him.

If Donghyuck sees his sire stand next to him, he doesn’t react. His gaze stays skyward, hand holding the open door in place so tightly that the wood has splintered. He looks sick. As thick as the cloud cover is, there’s still sunshine just beyond it. Even this much he can’t have.

“It’s kind of odd when you think about it, right?” the wind rails against his voice, pushing it back into the kitchen. “Why would a vampire who’s been alone for close to six centuries choose a random dying nobody by the side of the road as their first companion?”

“Let’s talk downstairs,” Jaehyun reaches for his arm, but Donghyuck moves just enough that he falters. There are raindrops sliding across his face and beading against his lashes.

“I knew someone was watching me,” Donghyuck continues. “Not right after I lost my family, but eventually, I knew it. My life was shit but I was still luckier than I should have been. Wolves and rats died at the edge of my property line, there was always fruit on the ground under trees long after they stopped bearing – my chicken too, she laid too many eggs. Three a day isn’t normal. I thought I was supposed to find out I was being watched, but afterwards I realized you don’t need to eat, so you probably have no idea how any of that works, and if you did before then you must have forgotten.”

The kitchen flashes bright. Moments later thunder falls and rattles the earth.

“You told me about your brothers, you know.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, a phantom ache filling his chest. “I’ve never –”

“Jaemin and Jisung,” Donghyuck continues. “I didn’t remember until later, but while I was turning, you told me. I was barely conscious, but I could hear you. I felt your grief when you sliced your palm and made me drink your blood. It was bleeding into me, and I could see them, living alone after your parents died. You went off to war and when you came back someone had overfed on their bodies and left them in the grass. You only became this thing to kill the person who killed them, but now you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

Jaehyun looks at his shaking palm, clenches it. “If you let me explain –”

“Why am I here?” Donghyuck’s asks. “Did you save me? Or did you save your brothers? Am I this thing because you needed closure? You called it a gift, but why does it feel like a curse?”

“It wasn’t about them,” Jaehyun tries. “It was at first, but then I just wanted to see you live. That was enough for me.”

“Did you let it happen?” Donghyuck’s voice trembles. “So you could have an excuse to –?”

“No,” Jaehyun steps forward, gaze earnest. “I swear it. On everything I’ve ever loved. I had gone into the city that day. By the time I came back your home was empty, and I could smell your blood half a mile off. It was selfish of me, but I didn’t want to let you go. Maybe I should have – I still don’t know what the right choice was.”

“Why me?” Donghyuck asks. The red of his irises have taken on a sickly colour, like coagulated blood, dark and damaged.

“Close the door.”

Donghyuck’s grip on it tightens, and the wood crackles under the strain. “Is that an order, or do I have a choice?”

Jaehyun gives him a long, pained look, then glances away. The wood under their feet is soaked, puddles littered with flecks of dead leaves and grass reaching into the darkness behind them.

“You miss the sun,” Jaehyun starts, “But then you forget what it feels like, so it’s easier. My brothers and I would spend the summers before I left swimming, trapping animals, naming insects, and checking nests, but once I turned, I was cut off from rekindling those memories. You were right – when I turned you, I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. A few years before then I had walked all night into the country and spent the hour before sunrise in an underbrush overlooking a river, waiting for the right time to let go, and just before I did, you came through the trees. I watched you the entire day, singing and slapping your dirty clothes against the rocks, throwing the tiny fish that got stuck in your basket back into the river, – I felt like I did before I left home for the first time. Sometimes I wonder if it didn’t matter who I saw, if I was looking for any excuse to keep going and latched on to you, but it doesn’t change anything. I felt stuck because I didn’t want things to change, but there was only one way to keep you beyond your natural time.”

“But that’s not what I am anymore,” Donghyuck’s expression breaks. “You weren’t even trying to save me. You were trying to save the person I keep thinking I’ll wake up as. But I won’t wake up. I can’t. I –” red pools at the corners of his eyes as he clutches at his chest. “I died. Someone killed me and left me in the snow.”

“Even if things hadn’t happened this way,” Jaehyun says, “Once I’d made you the offer, you still wouldn’t have been –”

“What you actually wanted?” Donghyuck looks at him, pale face streaking with blood.

“Any part of you is still a part I’m happy to have.”

Jaehyun isn’t sure if it was the right thing to say. Donghyuck’s mouth quirks strangely at the corners, and he seems to be bracing himself for something. In the end, the moment passes, and he closes the door.

**_Summer, 1852_ **

Jaehyun skims the last lines of the letter Heechul had sent him, turning the aged parchment over in his hands before folding it back into its envelope with broken bronze crest. He’d opened it around three a.m., but been too nervous to read it until it was close to seven, the morning mist long gone.

All things considered, a request to speak with him and Donghyuck in person wasn’t the worst outcome. Heechul’s ability to lure out memories would probably cause _some_ embarrassment – he’s sure to comment on the absurdity of a vampire stealing eggs for two months to put under an annoyed chicken before remembering he could just procure them from a shop – but Jaehyun has made peace with things as much as he ever will.

Donghyuck is right. Things do tend to progress very slowly in their world.

He’s tired, but not enough to sleep, and his restlessness brings him to Donghyuck’s room. Things between them were better in some places yet still strained in others. Jaehyun had never been so thankful for his lack of breathing and heart rate as when Donghyuck had crawled into his bed three days ago and hugged him from behind, pressing his mouth to his shoulder blade and throwing a leg over his hip. He’d been gone by dusk, locking himself in the study to try his hand at the Stradivarius violin. Jaehyun had found the tiny etching from his old home charred just inside the fireplace the next morning.

“Donghyuck,” he says, knocking softly, but there’s no response, and it’s empty when he looks inside. Jaehyun tries a few of the other rooms with the same result, then heads towards the kitchen.

There’s a faint light coming from that area that’s visible even from the opposite end of the hallway, and Jaehyun finds himself walking a little faster. It must be close to an hour since first light.

He enters the kitchen. The door leading outside is open, streaks of sunlight raining dust on a pile of clothing and two discarded boots just inside the threshold.

A butterfly flits into view, darts inside to touch the shadows, then quickly moves away.

“Hyuck?” Jaehyun expels the name in a rasp, too quiet even for his own ears. He stares out into the garden, half expecting Donghyuck to walk in and pick up his clothes, to make fun of him for falling for his trick, but it can’t be a trick, because he wouldn’t be able to do it. He still gets sick with cloud cover. When did the door open? Jaehyun didn’t hear it. Shouldn’t he have, even though he was inside his room? Was it the letter? Was he too distracted? He feels like he’s been staring at the clothes for hours already, and the doorway is creeping closer yet moving further away.

Jaehyun’s legs are sinking into the wooden floors as he makes for the door, skin buzzing, instinct driving his body to gasp for air he doesn’t need. “Hyuck – Donghyuck –”

At the doorway, even as the sunlight burns white along the edges of his vision, there’s nothing to see. The garden is empty. Jaehyun scans the steps and stone path for dust, for the sunflower pendant, for some evidence that Donghyuck was here, that he existed. There’s nothing. It’s not the burn of sunlight and waves of nausea that eventually make him step back – he realizes he’s standing on the clothes, and they may be the only thing he has left.

He bends over, reaching for the shirt. His own hand looks foreign, the beginning of cracks filled with embers splintering across his skin. How long would it last, if he just stayed? Would he feel pain until the very end, or would it stop once enough of him was no more?

An arm around his neck catches him off guard and he stumbles backwards, the room turning sideways then rushing towards him as he hits the floor. A slam echoes through the house as the kitchen door is kicked shut. Jaehyun is still adjusting to the sight of a table leg and the wood stove when Donghyuck turns him onto his back, straddling his stomach and grabbing the sides of his face.

“What are you doing?!”

Donghyuck is here.

Curled over him, hair damp, eyes feverish, and nostrils flared.

He took his things off to have a bath. To not track dirt in.

Jaehyun presses one hand to the small of Donghyuck’s back and the other to his neck, pulling him closer until he relinquishes his hold on Jaehyun to grip the sides of his shirt and tuck his face against his neck. Something hysterical born from a cocktail of shock and relief bottlenecks inside Jaehyun’s throat. His hands are shaking.

“I thought you went outside” he eventually says.

“I was at my old house,” Donghyuck murmurs against the skin beneath his ear. “I wanted to give myself a proper goodbye…let him rest.”

Jaehyun stares at the pattern on the ceiling. “That’s good.”

A bird taps its beak against one of the blocked windows, chirps indignantly, then flies off.

“And I’m okay with this,” Donghyuck continues. “With us. I can see how some of what I did recently may have given you the wrong idea, but I want to be here for – for you –” he seems annoyed at how his voice falters, “-and Yukhei, and Taeil, and everyone, even Mark, who started cello lessons as a child, which gives him an unfair advantage. I want to be here for myself too, I want to see what the world has to offer outside that awful shack.”

“If you ever feel like you want to go back and visit –”

“I burned it down,” Donghyuck turns his face closer to Jaehyun’s and gently scratches at his shirt.

“I believe that’s illegal.”

“So is drinking blood, probably.”

“Probably,” Jaehyun rolls onto his side, cups Donghyuck’s face, and kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure this will probably be my only fic ever. Inspired by Lunniere's jaehyuck fanart here: https://twitter.com/lunnarsystem/status/1205225185881800704. Please do yourself a favor and follow this amazing artist on Twitter!


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